


Hard Core

by alyse



Category: Primeval
Genre: Dark, M/M, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-06
Updated: 2010-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-05 21:34:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyse/pseuds/alyse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The cleaner is very good at his job, especially when it involves breaking things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hard Core

**Author's Note:**

> Dark. Really dark.
> 
> Thanks to [](http://temaris.livejournal.com/profile)[**temaris**](http://temaris.livejournal.com/) who encouraged me and offered a last minute beta.
> 
> Written for [](http://community.livejournal.com/mmom/profile)[**mmom**](http://community.livejournal.com/mmom/). In other words, here be wanking but it's not of the happy, joyous kind.

  
  
  
**Entry tags:** |   
[fandom: primeval](http://alyse.livejournal.com/tag/fandom:+primeval), [fic fandom: primeval](http://alyse.livejournal.com/tag/fic+fandom:+primeval), [fic genre: general](http://alyse.livejournal.com/tag/fic+genre:+general), [fic genre: slash](http://alyse.livejournal.com/tag/fic+genre:+slash), [fic pairing: connor/other](http://alyse.livejournal.com/tag/fic+pairing:+connor/other), [mmom: 2008](http://alyse.livejournal.com/tag/mmom:+2008)  
  
---|---  
  
**Pairing:** Connor/the Cleaner, non-con (sexual assault)

**Spoilers:** Set post season 2

**Disclaimer:** Primeval and its characters belong to Impossible Pictures. No copyright infringement is intended. This is fanfiction, written solely for love of the show.

~*~

He's good at his job, Derek is. You might say that he's the sort of man who takes pride in his work. It's a fine Coulthard tradition, kicking arse and taking names. Runs in the family. Course, his family haven't been the sort to run on the right side of the law as it were but that's never stopped them yet.

It helps that the Coulthards are built like brick shithouses, the men and the women both. Builds up the intimidation factor, if nothing else. But there are brains lurking behind those broken faces and that's always an advantage, even when - especially when - it's not expected.

That's why that bitch Helen Cutter chose him for this particular assignment.

One of him, anyway.

It's piss easy as well. Money for old rope. It's not like the kid's a fucking **challenge**.

He's pressed up against the wall, eyes wide and scared and his hand curled protectively over his stomach. Derek's first punch caught him off guard - it was easy to bundle him into the van after that. Easier still to put enough menace into his voice to keep the stupid little bastard quiet, at least once waving his gun and threatening more of the same were out of the way.

And now they're here, where it's nice and quiet and they can spend a long time getting to know each other.

Derek's looking forward to it. It's been a while since he's been allowed out to play and he's missed it. That Cutter bitch keeps him on far too short a leash.

There's no one around. Nothing but empty space. It was a factory once, this building, before land prices went up and it became more valuable for the real estate than it did for its manufacturing capacity. As did most of the buildings around them, so they're not likely to be interrupted and there's no one to hear anything unfortunate, like screams. When they'd closed this place, they'd stripped it but they'd made a shit job of it - there are still steel bolts embedded in the floor and the odd tool lying around, just waiting for someone handy to pick up and use.

Derek's always been more of a hands-on man himself. A big spanner can be useful when you want to break bones, but Cutter was clear on that point - Temple's to be left alive and injured 'no more than necessary'. She doesn't want a repeat of Hart. He'd think she was going soft if he wasn't smart enough to see the ice in her eyes. She's a hell of a lot more dangerous than Leek - stupid bastard - gave her credit for and he'd soon as go up against a raptor again as her.

Still, 'no more than necessary' gives him a hell of a lot of room to be… creative.

Derek takes a couple of steps closer, looming over the little prick. It's not difficult - Temple's skinny: average height, pasty skin. You think he'd have bulked up a bit, dealing with prehistoric monsters every day, but he's obviously the backup, the sidekick. The geek.

That's why he's here, and it makes Derek's job easier.

"I need the passcodes," he rumbles, not missing the way that Temple flinches back, avoiding his eyes. He can almost hear the rabbit fast beat of the boy's heart and too fucking right the kid should be scared. There's only one predator in here and it's not Temple. "And you're going to give them to me."

It's not a question, and they both know it, just like they both know that - for now - Temple's not going to give in. At least, Derek hopes not. Not straight away.

He's been looking forward to this.

Bang on cue, Temple shakes his head, his breathing quickening. He's still not looking at Derek, as though that's going to delay the inevitable.

Derek takes a step back, just far enough that some of the tension leaves Temple's frame. The sigh of relief hasn't even left his body before Derek's reminding him of just who the hell is in charge here, and it's not a snot-nosed little shit.

He doesn't hit Temple as hard as he could - not yet - but the boy's lip splits under his hand anyway. Temple staggers slightly, eyes shocked and blood dripping down his chin, and Derek fists a hand in his shirt, dragging him upright again and slamming him into the wall.

"We're going to try this again," he snarls, droplets of spit landing on Temple's shocked, pale skin. "Passcodes to get into the ARC system or I'll break your fuckin' face."

Temple hesitates for a second this time but the refusal comes again. He doesn't bother with subtlety, bringing his fist back and driving it into Temple's face, feeling his nose flatten under his knuckles. He watches dispassionately as he loosens his grip and Temple folds slowly towards the floor, gasping for breath as the blood starts to drip down the back of his throat, choking him.

Derek used to be a boxer, back in the day, which is why his own nose is broken. He uses that now, a quick one-two to Temple's belly, slipping easily past the hands that Temple brings up in a vain attempt to block him. It knocks what's left of the breath out of the kid, driving him down to the floor and Derek's steel toed boot follows through, catching Temple in the ribs and throwing him over onto his back.

He takes another step back, panting heavily. It's not exertion that's pulling at his lungs but adrenaline. It always gets him riled up, this. Blood pounding through his veins, heart pumping fast and furious, alive and savage with it. It's a good feeling, great. Beyond great.

It's fucking powerful.

He cracks his neck, watches and waits as Temple rolls slowly and painfully onto his side, knees coming up to his chest as he tries to ease the ache in his belly, in his chest. There's a hitch in Temple's breathing that tells him he may have cracked one of the bastard's ribs but it's difficult to tell past the wet snuffling of his broken nose.

Temple's still breathing though, and that's the important thing.

He leaves Temple on the floor for a moment, stalking around him and not missing the way the boy curls up more tightly, trying to protect himself from Derek. It's not going to work. He'd kick the little shit in the balls if he thought Temple had any.

He's getting bored. Temple's not putting up much of a fight and this is going to be over too soon to be satisfying. He reaches down again and wraps one meaty fist in Temple's shirt, pulling him to his feet and ignoring it when the boy staggers.

He slams Temple into the wall harder this time, hard enough to drive a whimper of pain out of him, and lets his irritation and impatience show.

"Passcodes. You're the one who has them all and you're the one who's going to give them to me. Now."

This time when Temple meets his eyes, there's a sheen of pure terror in his gaze. Derek leans in, close enough to kiss, close enough to rip Temple's fucking face off with his teeth if need be. He bares his teeth, lets that show and feels the shudder that runs through the little prick. Any second now he'll be pissing himself.

"It… It won't work." Temple's voice is shaking as much as he is, full of false bravado that doesn't convince either of them. "You won't… you won't get in. It's… it's not set up like… like that."

"Oh, Connor." He smiles, avuncular, and for some reason that makes the kid shake harder in his grip. "You don't really expect me to buy that do you, you stupid little fucker?"

He backhands him, hard this time. Hard enough to make Temple's ears ring. Hard enough to knock Temple straight off his feet and onto the floor, where he lands with a quickly muffled scream of pain.

Now that's music to his ears.

Temple's breath is coming in gasping sobs now, sounds he's trying - and failing - to keep quiet. When Derek moves closer this time, Temple tries to scrabble away across the floor, the movements slow and jerky, pained. Derek takes a deep breath, holds it in for a long moment, then brings the heel of his boot down hard on Temple's wrist, feeling the bones grind underneath his foot.

Temple doesn't manage to keep the scream in this time and when Derek finally lifts his foot and lets Temple pull his hand back into his chest, the sobs are louder and Temple's face is wet. Fucking pansy.

He keeps his distance, watching Temple try and scoot away, his injured wrist cradled to his chest and his breath coming in panicked, jerky gasps. He waits until Temple's back has hit the wall, until he can't get any further, and leans in again, radiating menace.

"Don't you fucking well mess with me. Understand?"

Temple's too far gone to even nod this time, eyes holding Derek's with nothing but sheer, animal terror in them. He feels his lip curl, moving back to give the kid enough space to find his balls again but can't resist a sharp kick to Temple's knee as he does so.

Kid's smart enough to swallow the cry down again this time, although his breath is still coming thick and wet and it's not just from the blood running down his face.

Derek turns to face him again, every nerve ending alive and electric. It's fucking marvellous, seeing the terror in Temple's face, especially as it's human this time. Animals are scared of being eaten, being hunted down and killed for food.

Temple's scared of everything he's going to do to him before then. He has something that animals lack.

Imagination.

Derek smiles again, rolling his neck and shoulders, getting ready for what's coming next, and Temple sees it; the boy isn't stupid. If he was, he wouldn't be here. He wouldn't have designed a system that even Leek wouldn't have been able to hack into if he was stupid.

Which sucks for him, really.

Yes, Temple sees it - not death but **pain** \- and his eyes drop, unable to hold Derek's gaze, not now he's seen what's in store. He ends up staring somewhere around Derek's belt area instead and then stiffens, eyes flying back up to Derek's face and now they're not just terrified - they're **horrified**.

It takes a second to click and then, yeah. It's the adrenaline. Makes him fucking hard. Always does. It's certainly not this little pansy, although…

He steps in closer, hand sliding to his zip, and Temple whimpers again, gaze fixed firmly on Derek's groin as he tries to press himself even further into the masonry behind him. Derek thinks idly about using his mouth - he looks like a little cocksucker - but the kid's panicked, maybe even panicked enough to use his teeth and Derek likes his prick, thank you very much. Besides, Temple does nothing for him. He's not a faggot. It's the adrenaline, the rush of power that gets him going, not Temple's pretty little face and girly hair.

He pulls out his cock, strokes it once, slowly, all the way along its length and Temple's face grows more horrified, more **terrified**. He tries to look away, move away but there's nowhere for him to go. Derek's in his face, literally, hand now smoothing rapidly back and forth across his cock, moving closer until that's all Temple can see.

He doesn't bother talking. He's never exactly been one for pillow talk even when he's with a bird. He's all business, is Derek, and that's all this is. Business. Business he's taking care of.

It doesn't take him long to come and it feels good, watching his jizz slide down the little shit's face. Good to step back, too, and watch Temple's good arm come up and wipe it away, his hand shaking and his face white and shocky. He's looking at Derek differently now, beyond just animal terror. There's something broken in Temple's eyes, something that tells him that Temple's finally grasped something that Derek learnt years ago.

The world's not fair, and it will fucking break you if it can. And if it can't, there's always some fucker that will.

"Passcodes," he repeats, his voice calm as he stuffs his cock back into his trousers and Temple watches him numbly. Derek's hand is wet, slick with his spunk. He steps forwards and wipes it on Temple's hair, ignoring the soft flinch and sound of revulsion. "Passcodes or next time I come in your mouth."

The shudders running through Temple now are strong enough to be visible but Derek doesn't take that much satisfaction in them. Temple's broken now. It's only a matter of time before he gets what he needs, and maybe he **will** use Temple's mouth before he sends him on his way. Just to drive that message home, the one about not fucking with Derek Coulthard because Derek Coulthard fucks back.

"… I bite…"

It takes him a second to register the words, as softly as they're said, and they take him by surprise. There's a grudging sense of admiration mixed in with the anger - maybe the kid found his balls after all. He draws back his foot, watching the kid trying to pull back, protect himself. Temple's struggling now, the movements sluggish, and his face is slack, past shock, past everything but numbness.

It's enough to change Derek's mind. He lets his foot fall to the floor and goes for the throat - literally. His thick fingers wrap themselves around Temple's neck, digging in until the kid gasps and scrambles ineffectually to loosen them. Derek waits a beat, two, staring straight into Temple's eyes until he sees it sink in, the knowledge that this is it, that this could be it. Derek could and would kill him without a second thought. Only then does he ease up enough for Temple to draw a breath, and leans in to drive the point home.

No matter how bad things get, they can always get worse. Especially when Derek Coulthard is involved.

"Pretty girl, your girlfriend."

Temple freezes, eyes widening even further and something inside him breaking anew.

Derek gives him that smile again, the one that would have a shark thinking twice.

"I don't want to fuck you, you little shit. But her? Oh yeah. I'd do her in a heartbeat." He leans in closer until he can see every fleck in Temple's dark eyes. "She'd love it, wouldn't she? You're not man enough for her but me? Oh yeah. She'd wrap those legs around me and beg for more."

"You… you leave Abby alone."

He squeezes again, just enough to cut Temple off, just enough to remind him who's boss. "Abby? That her name? Nice name for a little cunt." When Temple pushes forward, face contorting in a way that has nothing to do with his struggle for breath, Derek slams him back into the wall.

"Passcodes." His voice is ice. "Or I pay your little bitch a visit and show her what she's been missing."

He thinks that this is it - that this is the moment when Temple caves - but something catches his attention, a sound, just on the periphery of his hearing. An engine, and he cocks his head, assessing the threat.

He's already dismissed any threat from Temple's direction, and that might have been a mistake.

The kid makes another bid for freedom, this time pushing Derek hard enough that he rocks on his heels, fingers slipping from Temple's throat before he can catch himself. Temple's fist - the only good one he's got now that Derek's probably broken his other wrist - hits him somewhere around the waist but it's not enough to even wind him. He backhands Temple again, driving him back down onto the floor.

The engine's coming closer and he frowns, dismissing Temple again as he rises to his feet. His hand moves automatically to his sidearm.

And comes up empty.

An icy thread trickles down his spine that's nothing do with adrenaline and sweat. He turns slowly back towards where Temple is stretched out on the floor.

Temple may only have one good hand, but he only needs one. The barrel of the gun yawns black and empty in front of him.

"You stay the fuck away from Abby."

There's blood and snot and tears and come on the kid's face but his eyes… His eyes blaze with fury and fear, a dangerous combination in anyone's book, even Derek's.

"You stay the fuck away from her, you bastard!"

Temple's voice is rising, panicked and furious, and his hand is shaking wildly. But his eyes… his eyes don't flinch this time and Derek sees the exact moment when something else breaks behind them, something that's got nothing to do with the fear of being eaten, of being hurt. Nothing to do with the fear of anything happening to **him**.

Whatever it is that breaks, it leaves icy splinters behind, hard and pared to the bone.

Temple's finger tightens on the trigger and his last thought is that if Temple's hand doesn't stop shaking as he fires, this is going to hurt like fuck.

The End


End file.
